That Perfect Shot
by iamamywaterhouse
Summary: It's some Charlie/Hermione camera sexy time. Two years ago, they told each other that two years before they loved each other. Not really M, but is M to be on the safe side of things. One shot only for now.


**Hello again, it's been a while but here is a new fic.  
>Of course it's a CharlieHermione but it's a bit of a different one for me. For once I wouldn't call this M rated (even though I will post it as an M rated fic, just to be on the safe side)  
>Right, background to this story: There really isn't any. It's just a little random idea I came up with. I was writing a really angsty Charlie fic, but it wasn't really going anywhere so I started this one. The events that happened in the books still happen, but Hermione and Ron never happened.<br>I know it's only a short one, but university has started so has sucked up any free time I had (which wasn't really a lot in the first place!)  
>I've also been reading a lot of Wilbur Smith recently (The Egyptian Series. If you've read it, then let me know!) so my style may change into a bit of Smith in parts.<br>Anyway, do enjoy and please review at the end!  
><strong>

"Do that again"

"Do what?"

"You know what"

Charlie laid back on plump white pillows and a thin sheet lazily thrown over his hips. He reached across to his camera, a custom made film camera he had bought when he first moved to Romania. It was friendly in his hand, set up just so for that fantastic photograph. The subject of his new line of portraits was a woman. Someone he had known for a long time now, but had only just got to know in the last two years. He raised the camera and trained his eye on the view finder, using his fingers to delicately focus on his target.

She was all woman. Slightly athletic in frame and graceful and powerful in stature. She was sitting on the side of the bed and slowly teasing a stocking up her thigh, sensing Charlie's need to practise his art. Through the chaotic waves that fell around her face, she smirked as she lowered the stocking once more, Charlie's eye drawn down the curves of her thigh. He moved a bedside lamp so the shadows were longer and more intense. She kept her head down, hiding her soft features and silken skin. Her arms were scarred, glorified by the lighting, beautiful in their nature. She pointed her toes and retraced the journey the stocking had made just moments before. She heard that familiar sound of a camera shutter and a soft flash of light. She heard it again and again, the artist wanting to get that perfect shot. The routine was repeated for the other stocking.

"So when do I get to point that camera at you?"

He laughed softly as he took another photograph. She was pouting slightly, eyes trained on him full of lust and desire.

"You don't" he smiled. He put the camera down and kissed her, the passion he had for his photos transferred to the passion he had for her. His hands pulled her close, weaving through her hair as he went. He broke the kiss, smiling. "I have something for you".

Charlie was all man. He pulled back the thin sheet covering his modesty and walked from the room, comfortable with himself. As he was gone, Hermione reached for the camera and trained it to a spot near the door. She knew he wouldn't let her near it normally, but she decided it's easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission.

Charlie re-entered the room, a large roll of paper in one hand and his other running through his long and messy hair. His eyes were lowered to the floor so he wouldn't trip over the clothing they had earlier discarded. His was tall and toned, the half-light showing the contours of his arms and chest. A click and a soft burst of light made him jump, but he smiled regardless. She was laughing her perfect laugh as he tackled her onto the bed.

"What did I tell you, hey?" he asked, tickling her sides and they playfully fought on the twisting bed sheets. "I got you this"

"What for?" she asked, taking the roll of paper. Slowly she pulled the piece of string holding the roll together and flattened it onto the bed. It was a photograph. It had to be, didn't it? A photograph of herself from nearly two years earlier.

"Two years ago, I told you I loved you. It was that day we spent in bed and you got up to make pancakes" he smiled, looking at the photograph with her.

It was Hermione, with her back to the camera, making pancakes with honey and butter. She remembered that day well, she had made love to Charlie all day and all night. She felt like she had never felt before; loved and wanted. She felt desirable for the first time ever. In the photograph, she was wearing a cooking apron tied at the back that showed off her perfect body. She was scarred, pale skinned but it was perfection to Charlie. He had noticed her from a distance, standing in the doorway of the kitchen and just watching. He admired her, tracing the curve of each buttock with his eyes before following her long legs to the floor. Her hair was tied messily at the back of her head and he could see the delicately toned muscles of her neck and shoulders working as she mixed the pancake batter. He took his time to frame his photograph, knowing there was only one shot to get it perfect. He had secretly developed the photograph, all the while telling Hermione that the light had flared too much so it was a useless photograph. After a time she had stopped badgering him about it and forgotten it completely

"I remember" she whispered. She took her time to admire the photograph, greys and black in the development. "It was the first time I told you I loved you too"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Two years later, Hermione was shutting the door to the nursery after putting her child to sleep. He was just over a year old and didn't sleep through the night. Charlie was awake, reading on the low sofa in the living area of their Romanian house.

"How is he?"

"He's sleeping, but he'll be up again in a couple of hours" she replied, reaching for her glass of wine. "Wait there" she added as she stood as quickly as she had sat down.

Charlie shook his head slightly and went back to his reading, looking through his thick rimmed reading glasses. He heard a door close upstairs and footsteps on the stairs.

"This is for you, darling" Hermione gently said, proffering a roll of paper. Upon sighting it, Charlie smiled, wider than he had done in years. He remembered that night two years ago where he had done something similar for Hermione. He untied the string that was around the roll and flattened it on the coffee table. Upon seeing the photograph, he laughed softly.

The man in the photograph was sexy, masculine and erotic. He was proud in his stance, one hand lifted to brush his hair back, the other holding a familiar roll of paper at his side. The dark lighting sculpted his chest and stomach, dividing the muscles into that desirable pattern Hermione loved. A small trail of hair lead down to his manhood, proudly displayed between his legs.

The face in the photograph was looking down, cheekbones slightly hollow. His eyes vivid, only just visible beneath his long lashes. His lips were parted, moistened by his tongue and catching the light brightly. The photograph oozed erotica, classical manliness and physical beauty. Like the photograph Charlie had gifted to Hermione years before, this one was black and white also. It changed the tone of it to something timeless.

"You said this photo was blurred" he said, turning to kiss his wife.

"You said the other one was bleached" she retorted with a kiss.

"Two years ago, I said two years before that that I loved you" Charlie said.

"Two years ago, I said I love you two years before that too" Hermione replied.

_Fin. I hope you enjoyed it and please click the review button! I really appreciate every one I get_.  
><em>I also want to thank all the people who had review all of my other fics and added me to story and author alerts, I didn't think that so many people would enjoy my ramblings, but it's so great that people do. <em>


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